I Gave Up After Failing To Pull My Lover
On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town.
The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin.
I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished.
However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person.
He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me.
Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go.
That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor.
“I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.”
When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”